Chapter 56: Nick Gray Gets Results

I was determined to get answers for Rita Skeeter. Some of her jobs get me in trouble, but she's easy on the eyes and she pays pretty well. The gold galleons she paid me felt good in my pocket.

Interviewing the Hufflepuff gals proved to be pleasant and straight forward. I learned that the girl Snape might have dated was named Holly Runcible and she was from a village called Upper Dibble. She'd disappeared right after they'd finished school and they'd all heard she was dead, but no one was quite sure of the details. Some sort of accident, they'd heard; a spell gone wrong, or she crashed her broom, or maybe she drowned or something. They'd heard vague rumors of murder, too. I tried asking a few of the gals out on a date but got no takers.

So I searched out a retired Auror that I knew. I found him sitting at a table in the Happy Hippogriff pub with a pint of beer in front of him. His long face, with its big nose and droopy jowls, reminded me of a basset hound that one of my ex-girlfriends owns. "Hi Gus," I said.

"Well, if it isn't Nick Gray, the Private Eye," he replied. "Whatever ya want, Nick, the answer is no." So I bought him another pint and that loosened his tongue a bit. He kept insisting that he'd never heard of Holly Runcible, and that meant she'd never been reported missing.

"Kids run away all the time, Nick. It's normal. It don't mean nothin'," he said. "But I think I recognize that last name. Some guy with that name took a long fall off a cliff back around that time."

"Fell," I asked, "or was pushed?"

"Guys fall off cliffs all the time, Nick. It's normal. It don't mean nothin'."

"I'm sure you're right, Gus," I said, but I didn't believe him. First the girl disappears, and then a family member has a fatal accident? It was too much of a coincidence. But I bought him another pint. I had a few myself, too, and then I wandered back to my office. The beer was giving me a lovely warm feeling and soon I found myself singing:

"Lovely Rita, beetle maid,

you smile at me so sweetly.

Spread your green wings

and fly away with meeee …"

I guess I drank a bit more than I should have. I must have passed out, because I woke up on the floor the next morning with a headache that would have felled a full-grown forest troll.

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After a few cups of coffee, a stale bagel, and a vial of headache potion, I slipped my wand into my shoulder holster, grabbed my trench coat, and headed out. It wanted to interview Mrs Runcible, so I caught the train to Upper Dibble. I had no problem finding her small cottage, but I got no answer when I knocked on the door. I was about to give up when an old lady who was walking a Schnauzer called to me.

"She never comes out or answers the door anymore," the lady said. "Not since the deaths."

"Deaths? My name is Nick Gray and I'm looking for Holly Runcible. We were friends at school," I lied, "but I lost touch with her. Do you happen to know where I could find her?"

"You went to Hogwarts with her?" the old gal said. "Well, good luck finding her. Holly ran off when she found out about the arranged marriage."

If she knows about Hogwarts, she must be a witch, I realized. That might make things a bit simpler.

"The arranged marriage?" I said, pretending to be surprised by that which, actually, I was. "Maybe you could tell me about it," I said. "Maybe at the pub. I could buy you a glass or two of wine, or maybe some nice sherry."

I could see she liked that idea. Her eyes glowed brighter than Ashwinder eggs on a hot day. "Just let me drop the dog off at home and I'll tell you all about it," she said.

The Schnauzer barked happily.

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Her name was Agatha Fillpots. She led me to the pub and ordered a bottle of sweet white wine. I stuck with coffee. Then she commenced to tell me her entire life history. By the time she got to her third husband I wasn't sure I could take much more, but after some firm prodding she finally got around to telling me the gossip about the Runcible family.

"The Runcibles are part of an old pureblood family," she said, "but Holly's father, Robert Runcible, fell on hard times after he made some bad investments. He owed a bundle to that rich old swindler, Fredrick Pilkington, and the rest of the family refused to help him out with a loan. But Robert was in luck, or so he thought, because Fred Pilkington was looking for a pureblood bride for his son, Roddy. Roddy's a nice enough boy, but he's not very bright, and the old man wanted a smart girl that would improve the family's bloodline."

Mrs Fillpots poured herself some more wine. She was certainly enjoying the stuff.

"Pilkington consulted my sister-in-law, Reena – that's how I know all this. You've probably heard of Reena; she's the proprietor of 'Readings by Reena' in Diagon Alley. You know: 'Reena sees all, knows all'."

I didn't, but I nodded anyway.

"Reena's a well-known matchmaker. She consulted the stars and told Pilkington that Holly Runcible would be an excellent match, so Pilkington forced her father to agree to the marriage. That was all well and good until Holly got home from Hogwarts and they told her about it. She must have been pretty upset because she ran off a few days later."

I'd hit the jackpot! I could hardly wait to tell Rita!

"But that wasn't the end of it. Oh, no," Mrs Fillpots said. "Old Pilkington was furious. He'd announced the wedding and invited everyone of importance, including the Malfoys, and it was a terrible embarrassment for him. Massive loss of face and that sort of thing. So can you guess what he did next?"

I leaned forward eagerly and shook my head no.

"He hired some assassins," Mrs Fillpots whispered. "It was probably the Nameless Assassins, because Fredrick Pilkington always buys the best."

The Nameless Assassins? They're way outta my league! I had to hide the fact that I was shaking in my gumshoes.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Sure enough. Mr Runcible had a fatal 'accident' a few days after Holly ran off, and I'm sure they must have got Holly, too, the poor girl. She was never heard from again. Her body was never found, but the Nameless never give up until their quarry is dead."

I was grateful that her sister-in-law Reena not only sees all and knows all, but she tells all, too. It had only cost me an overpriced bottle of wine and an hour of listening to Mrs Fillpots rambling on about herself to get the info that I needed.

"Thanks a lot," I said as I picked up my fedora. "I've gotta run along now. I've got a train to catch. Enjoy the rest of your wine."

I had to get my report to Rita right away!